In the pits of our souls - if I amuse myself with the notion that I have a soul - Elian and I aren't so different. Two kingdoms that come with responsibilities we each have trouble bearing. Him, the shackles of being pinned to one land and one life. Me, trapped in the confines of my mother's murderous legacy. And the ocean, calling out to us both. A song of freedom and longing.
Some people burn so brightly, it's impossible to put the flames out.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
He shrugs. "What I do best."
"Getting on my last nerve ?"
"Saving you," he replies picking up his sword. "This is the second time. Not that I'm counting."
“You are a little heartless today, aren’t you?”
“Never,” I say. “There are seventeen under my bed.”
"You should be careful", I tell Yukiko. "The thing about taking something that's not yours is that there will always be someone out there ready to take it back."
"I suppose I'll have to watch my back, then."
"No need", I tell her. "I can see it perfectly."
"People don't tell secrets because someone needs to know them. They do it because they need someone to tell."
"Lira," I say, "I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to translate?"
"I've never been accused of kindness before."
Any human who takes a siren’s heart will be immune to the power of their song. Only Elian didn’t need to take my heart; I gave it to him.
How strange that instead of taking his heart, I’m hoping he takes mine.
“What would you be losing?” he asks. “If I married you?” I stand the tower above him, pushing away the unraveling thing inside me. “I suppose it would be my mind.”
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